


Like Father Like Daughter

by WiredDizzyGirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Multi, Self-Harm, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiredDizzyGirl/pseuds/WiredDizzyGirl
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have a daughter Joan and she's more like her father than anyone could possibly know. Don't want to give too much away.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed so any mistakes are my own. This was a fic I had originally posted at fanfiction.net, and I've decided to post it here

Joan stood in front of her full-length mirror, giving herself a once over. She could see Rosie scowling in the reflection. They've had conversations like this before. Joan honestly didn't understand what Rosie's problem was. Honesty was always the best policy, wasn't it?

"Joan I'm sick of this you do this all the time, every time," Rosie spoke. She ran her hair through her short blonde hair. She watched as Joan patted her curly dark hair that she just finished pinning up.

"Justin is cheating on you, Rosie. It's so obvious it's sickening." Joan sighed. She was only trying to help and save Rosie the heartache. Justin wasn't worthy of licking the dirt off of Rosie's shoes. Joan pointed out all of the evidence very clearly, yet Rosie was angry with her.

"Just because he's changed his brand of cologne doesn't mean he's cheating on me," Rosie said. Sometimes it was difficult and frustrating being friends with Joan Helena Holmes. She was always very observant and noticed everything. Joan was very good at deduction just like her father and was usually right.

"I need you to trust me on this." Joan pleaded. She spun around, and her verdigris eyes locked on to her friend's soft brown ones. Joan walked over to Rosie and placed a hand on one of her shoulders. Rosie let out a sigh.

"I do trust you, Joan, you know I do," Rosie spoke. Her voice barely whispered. Joan grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her up. She wore a big smile on her ruby red lips. She couldn't help to think about how much Joan looked like her father. They had the same dark thick curly hair, high cheekbones, and they both had the same eyes. Joan even dressed a bit like her father. Today she was wearing his purple shirt, a short black skirt, fishnet stocking, and a pair of black stilettos.

"I'm so glad to hear that, now we better get downstairs and have breakfast or we're going to be late for school," Joan said. The two girls made their way downstairs where they could smell a full English fry up cooking.

"Good morning, ladies." Sherlock greeted the girls. He was still wearing his pajamas and one of his many silk dressing gowns. He placed two plates of food on to the kitchen table and turned to help his wife make another.

"Good morning, daddy." Joan smiled. She loved her parents so much. They weren't like most people's parents; they were cool, at least in her opinion they were. How many other girls could say that their father was the famous Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consultant detective. Her mother had a pretty excellent job as a pathologist. She worked in the morgue at St. Bartholomew Hospital.

"Did you sleep last night?" Molly asked as she poured orange juice for the girls. Molly placed a plate in front of her husband and shot him a look that meant you're eating or else. Sherlock often refused food or would eat a little while in the middle of a case. He said it slowed him down.

"Yes, mummy, I slept a little," Joan assured her mum. Joan not only looked like her father, but she also seemed to share some of his bad habits as well. John sometimes referred to Joan as Sherlock's mini-me, but the pop culture reference went over his head.

"Eat up ladies John will be here soon to drive you to school," Sherlock said. John had to work late at the surgery, and so Rosie ended up spending the night. John offered to take the girls to school since it was the least he could do.

"Poppet is that my shirt?" Sherlock asked. Joan had developed the habit of borrowing his clothing well, at least his shirts. It must be some new fad or something because Rosie was wearing one of John's jumpers, the cream cable knit one, and she was wearing a denim skirt, black knee highs, and doc martins. She shared John's practical fashion sense.

"You don't mind, daddy, do you?" replied Joan. She polished off her breakfast and flashed her dad, her best smile. She already knew the answer. Of course, he didn't mind. Her father always doted on her. Some might say she was spoiled.

"Nope, just mind that it gets returned in one piece," Sherlock said. He couldn't understand why when the girl had a closet full of clothes. It's not lost on him that she was also wearing his Belstaff and his deerstalker. He didn't care about the deerstalker, but the Belstaff was a whole different story, thank God he had spares.

"Uncle Sherlock, daddy texted me he's downstairs, so we gotta bounce," Rosie announced. She got up and kissed her Godfather on the check and then hugged her Godmother. She looked over at Joan and nodded to the door.

Joan got up and kissed both her parents and headed towards the door. She didn't want to keep her Uncle John waiting. She watched her father get up and pushed in his chair. He walked the girls to the door. She gave him a hug.

"Have a good day, my poppet and my little bee," Sherlock called after the girls. The girls left the flat and headed downstairs. Joan reached into her pocket and pulled out a pill bottle and quickly popped a couple before reaching outside. Rosie looked over and gave her a scathing look.

"Get in you two we've got to go," John called from the driver seat of his Volvo. Joan and Rosie got in, and they sped off. The shared small talk with John along the way. Joan only hoped that Rosie would do the right thing about Justin and dump him as soon as possible. Her deductions about him weren't wrong.

Joan's mobile phone beeped, and she looked down at the message.  
What did you take?-RW  


Oxycontin-JH Joan replied. She knew this was something else that they often argued about, but Rosie just didn't understand that she needed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbetaed so any mistakes are my own.

The car pulled up to the school, and Joan and Rosie got out. They said goodbye to John and started walking towards the swarm of students. Joan spotted Rosie's boyfriend Justin right way. He was talking to some leggy blonde's name; she never cared to learn. Joan noticed that Justin had caught Rosie's eye as well. They watched as Justin pulled the girl into a hug.

"Not a word Joan, not a word," Rosie said. The girls made their way towards Justin. It took a few minutes before he noticed them. The blonde girl was already walking away. "What is the meaning of this?" Rosie asked. Her voice shook a little. The look on Justin's face suddenly turned sheepish.

"I don't know what you're talking, Rosie." Justin lied. He wrapped his arms around himself and bounced a little on the balls of his feet. He ran his fingers, threw his ginger hair. He was trying hard to avoid eye contact.

"I saw you kissing Amber, Joan saw it too. Don't even try to deny it." Rosie said. Her hands clenched into fists at her side. Anger was boiling just below the surface. Of course, Joan was right; she was always right. "How long has this been going on?" Rosie asked.

"Only about a week," Justin admitted. He hung his head and stared at his feet. "I'm sorry, Rosie, really I am. I've meant to tell you, but I didn't know how," he said. He fidgeted with his hands before deciding to put them in his pockets. 

"How could you?" Rosie sobbed. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks. She had trusted Justin, taken a chance on him. She felt so stupid for ever believing that good things could happen to her.

"I'm sorry," Justin said. His shoulders slumped, and his head hung low. He turned to walk away. His pace was quick like he couldn't get away fast enough.

Without even thinking about it, Joan ran after Justin and jumped on Justin's back. She flipped him over and began hitting his head off the ground. He broke Rosie's heart and made her cry; the lowlife deserved to pay. Blood started to cover Justin's head. Joan wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear Rosie screaming for her stop. Arms wrapped around her pulling her away.

Joan struggled against the person holding her trying to get back to what she was doing. No one was allowed to hurt Rosie and get away with it. Justin was nothing but scum in Joan's eyes. "Let go," Joan demanded. 

"I don't think so young lady." an all too familiar voice said. John just held Joan tightly. Luckily he hadn't driven away yet when he had seen the whole spectacle. "I think you need to calm down," John said.

Joan stopped struggling and slumped against John. The Headmaster and nurse were cutting through the crowd. The Headmaster started making his way towards her. Joan was sure this wasn't going to end well.

"Holmes my office now." the Headmaster demanded. If looks could kill, Joan would be a goner. Joan walked passed the Headmaster. John and Rosie followed after her as she made her way into the building. Her stilettos clicked and clacked on the hard floor.

Joan flung open the door to the Headmaster's office and plopped down in one of the chairs. It wasn't her first trip to the Headmaster's office and indeed, probably wouldn't be her last. John and Rosie sat next to her. John took out his phone and was most likely texting her father.

The Headmaster entered the room. He sat down at his staring at Joan. "Miss Holmes mind telling me what that was all about?" the Headmaster asked. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. 

"I was beating a lying, cheating arsehole is what I was doing," Joan explained. She wasn't about to feel bad for what she did. Justin deserved what he got. She should have waited though for there to fewer witnesses.

"My patience for you has run out Miss Holmes. You constantly berate teachers, insult their intelligence, and constantly correct them in front of your classmates." the Headmaster said. He steepled his fingers and looked at Joan. "I'm afraid I have no choice, but to expel you," he said.

"You can try Headmaster Smith, but it won't work. I'll just call my uncle the Prime Minister. You know Mycroft won't stand for this," Joan said. Usually, the threat of her uncle was enough to put people in their place.

"That isn't going to work on me, Miss Holmes." the Headmaster said. He took out some forms and began filling them out. "I don't care who your uncle is or who your father is. You can't go around assaulting students in my school," he said.

"I've texted Joan's father already, and he's on his way," John said. John looked over at Joan and frowned. "I'm very disappointed in you, Joan. Your parents raised you better than this," he said. He just shook his head and ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. "As Joan's Godfather, I apologize for her behavior. I can't imagine what had gotten into her." John apologized. 

"Joan, I can't believe you did that," Rosie said. Her fists clenched her skirt. She understood that Joan was just trying to be a good friend. This time though, Joan had crossed the line. Joan was a handful even at the best of times.

"He hurt you, Rosie, so I only saw it fit to hurt him," Joan explained. Joan vowed to herself that if anyone ever caused Rosie, any can pain or suffering they would pay. Rosie deserved someone who would make her happy.

"Miss Holmes violence is not acceptable." the Headmaster scolded. Joan rolled her eyes at the Headmaster. "When your father gets here, you're going to have to explain yourself to him." the Headmaster said. 

"I don't see what difference it will make if you're going to expel me anyways," Joan said. When her father gets here, they can sign whatever paperwork needs signing and get out of this hell hole as soon as possible. The Headmaster was right about one thing she wouldn't be able to count on uncle Mycroft to get her out of this because he would agree that there needed to be consequences for her action. Values are damned though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not Betaed so any mistakes are my own.

All eyes turned to Sherlock as he stormed into the Headmasters office. "Hello, daddy," Joan said. Sherlock sat down in one of the chairs and glared at the Headmaster. Joan knew that her father was sizing him up, making his deductions. 

"Poppet, what did you do this time?" Sherlock asked. He knew his daughter tended to sometimes get into trouble. The last indecent had been a small explosion in the chemistry room. He had been able to convince the Headmaster that it was due to faulty equipment. The consultant detective wondered what the problem could be this time.

"You're daughter got into an altercation with another student." the Headmaster said. Headmaster Smith frowned a look of disappointment on his face. "The nurse had informed me that the boy has a concussion. The parents may want to press charges," he added. 

"Justin was cheating on Rosie, dad he deserved it. I do suppose though that it was probably a bit not good." Joan said. Joan hoped that her father wouldn't be too angry. She knew that she probably overreacted, but she couldn't help it. 

"A bit not good, how about a lot, not good Joan." Sherlock scolded. He and Mycroft were going to have to talk to the boy's parents. Molly certainly was going to happy when she heard about this. Sherlock was glad she had already gone to work. 

"Our school has a zero-tolerance for this kind of thing. I have no choice but to expel her." the Headmaster said. Headmaster Smith shuffled the papers he had on his desk and pushed them towards Sherlock. He leaned back in his chair. 

"I understand," Sherlock said. He signed the paperwork and passed it to Joan to sign. Sherlock knew there wasn't any way out of this, at least not yet. "Is there anything else?" Sherlock asked. He steepled his fingers. "John, what's that thing parents do to their kids when they have been not good?" Sherlock asked.

"You ground them, Sherlock," John said. He just shook his and sighed. Sometimes Sherlock could be so clueless about things for someone so smart. 

"Yes, of course. Joan, you're grounded." Sherlock said. Joan looked at him with shock on her face. Sherlock never had to punish his daughter before, so this was new for both of them. 

"Are you serious?" Joan shouted. She couldn't believe her ears, and her hands clutched into fists. "Never mind, I'll be in the car." Joan seethed. She got up and stormed out of the room. She couldn't believe that her father would side with the stupid Headmaster.

Joan had a one-track mind as she made her way to where her father had parked. Her hand reached into her coat pocket and clutched at the plastic case that held a small double edge razor. She tried the door finding it unlocked. Joan got into the car. 

She pulled out the plastic case and took out the razor. Joan shrugged off the coat and rolled up her left sleeve. She took a deep breath as she cut into her forearm. She watched as blood bubbled up to the surface. The stinging pain took her mind of everything. She hissed as she made a few more cuts. She looked around the car and found some napkins from Speedy's and quickly stopped the bleeding. She didn't want the blood to get all over her dad's shirt, that would be hard to explain.  


She fished the pill bottle out and popped a couple more Oxy. She put the coat back on. She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. She tried to shut out all the static in her brain until the drugs could start kicking in. 

The back door flew open and Joan opened her to watch her father fling her backpack into the back seat. "You left it behind," he said. Joan only shrugged. "Not like I'll be needing it," Joan said. She fastened her seat-belt as her father got into the driver seat. "So, what am I grounded from?" she asked. When she heard her classmates bitching about being grounded, it was often because their parents put restrictions on them.

"You'll not be doing your vlog for a while also I will be confiscating your computer. I will discuss the matter further with your mother when she gets home." Sherlock explained. If looks could kill, Sherlock was sure he would be dead. He started the car and began driving home.

"That's not fair! What about Rosie will I still be allowed to see her?" Joan inquired. If she couldn't see Rosie, she would go insane, she was sure of it. "I'm going to die of boredom, aren't I? That's the real punishment, isn't it." Joan asked.

"Stop being a drama queen. No one has ever died from being bored." Sherlock said. Although there had been a time or two where you could have convinced him that it could be possible, he understood all too well what it is like if the mind doesn't have proper stimulation. 

"Look who's talking." Joan scoffed. It was pretty much common knowledge that her father was the king of drama queens. There were bullet holes in the walls that prove it. She sighed and looked out the window.

"We'll get through this okay. Do you think I enjoyed having to come to your school and hear about how you got into a fight with Rosie's ex-boyfriend?" Sherlock said. He could understand that Joan was upset on Rosie's behalf, but that didn't excuse her behavior. 

"No, I can imagine not," Joan said. She didn't feel bad about what she did, though. Justin needed to be hurt like he had hurt Rosie. She did feel bad about disappointing the people she cared about though.

They pulled up in front of 221 B Baker Street. Joan got out, slamming the car door shut. Sherlock was right behind her. Joan flung open the door and went straight to her room. She unplugged her laptop that was sitting on her desk. She flung it on her bed along with the video recorder that she and Rosie used for her vlog. 

Joan saw her father standing in the doorway. "Well, take them and leave," she said. Sherlock came into the room and gathered up the laptop and recorder and left without saying a word. Joan slammed the door shut. 

Joan walked over to her dresser and pulled open a secret compartment. She pulled out a bottle scotch and popped it open. She took a long pull, feeling it burn down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Here's to being grounded," she muttered to no one.


End file.
